The Clown

The smiling face is but a fool’s excuse and mask
for being there at all in this existence,
hiding an infinity of sorrows
in this nightmare world of endless miseries
which never any painted face could hide
or do away with or pretend that it did not exist;
and although without tears, his heart is crying out
in silence drowning in unfathomable depths
of hopelessly incurable and melancholy desperation,
while his face continues still to merrily provoke some laughter
as the constant entertainer who can never break out of his comedy
but is forced to keep it going to a bitter end
that never will release him.
He is just a clown whose job is to be laughable,
and as long as he keeps laughing with his painted face
the world will go on headlong down into a dwindling spiral
of its hopeless chase for merriment that will not ever be enough,
and thus all death skulls will forever go on laughing.

Poetry by Christian Lanciai The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 76 times
Written on 2023-10-09 at 01:32

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
The clown has taken on new meaning, or evolved I suppose, into someone whose joy comes from abusing power, causing misery and hopelessness throughout the world.

Not much laughter from these clowns, you caught it perfectly.